


Piece by Piece

by in_the_closet_hunter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Depression, Destiel - Freeform, Drug Use, Fluff, Gay, M/M, Rape, Self-Harm, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma, processing through trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2018-11-05 05:23:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11006877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_the_closet_hunter/pseuds/in_the_closet_hunter
Summary: Castiel has always struggled with being happy in life. One bad thing after another built up and and broke him down. As he begins to process his trauma, he meets Dean Winchester- the most beautiful man he has ever seen. Castiel has to face his fears of the past to have something good in the present and maybe something even better in the future.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!   
> I will update every Friday.

_Everything seems to be falling apart all at once, even though it is only falling piece by piece. These things take time, but one incident can ruin your life. One moment in time can fuck over everything that you have worked for. One moment can destroy you. I never thought I would end up this way, I was always a hopeful young boy that believed in the best but when I was five years old, my uncle’s friend raped me. That’s when my anxiety began, and my nightmares. This one moment destroyed me, but every moment after that added to the destruction. As I said before, ‘these things take time.’ They ‘fall apart piece by piece.’ I’m not going to go into my life background, not yet. We’ll start with this first moment, the moment that took away my hope, my happiness and my security. I don't remember how I ended up in the room or even how I got out. I only remember the way his hands felt against my skin- warm, clammy and down right disgusting._

_Each brush of his fingers sent a whole new wave of sickness through me, threatening to vomit at any point. The way he forced me down, leaving bruises on my wrists, on my neck._

_I was five years old._

_The way he tore the clothing from my body, forced me into the positions he wished and the way he slowly forced himself inside of me; these are the things that I remember in overwhelming detail._

_I was five years old._

_I remember the way his breath felt against my neck as he grunted cuss words onto my skin, each breath stealing away mine- suffocating me and reminding me of what was happening, even if I didn't fully understand what was happening._

_His tongue shot fear through me as it slid it's way up my neck, his teeth encouraged the tears to fall as he bit marks onto me, and his fingers built my hopelessness as he cut off my air supply._

_I was five years old._

_Heat, stickiness and pain is what came next- his seed marked me as a filthy, worthless boy that would grow into destruction. That is the last thing I remember, when he pulled out or got dressed or left is a mystery to me. When I came to, I was in a hospital with my parents weeping over me, blaming themselves for leaving their little boy alone with such a bad man. They spoke kind words to me, I didn't comprehend a single one._

_I was five years old._

Tears brimmed the blue eyes staring down at the worn down pages of a notebook that's been held onto and used for many years. Processing, is what his therapist had called it. He had to process the “trauma.” He hates feeling victimized like this, and he fucking hates the way it makes him feel again- not in the emotional sense of feeling but the physical sense. Castiel can feel the man's touch, breath, spend and weight; he is sure that if he were to look in a mirror, he'd find himself bruised and bloody with unwanted come dripping down his thighs. Castiel flutters his eyes shut, not wanting to face reality but as he sinks into this action, he only is greeted by vivid flashbacks. The tears begin to fall.

After crying for an hour or two, Castiel finds the little strength in him to stand up and get ready for work, something he debates calling in sick for but knows that he needs the money and will never be able to pay off any of his bills if he doesn’t follow through with attending. Every movement is slow, heavy and takes a little too much effort for his liking. It exhausts him, which is one of the worst things when you go to work. Work is exhausting so the fun of showing up to work already exhausted is very very limited. Cass sighs as the thought, ‘I never wanted to be born in the first place and now, now I have to do pointless shit to keep myself alive. I have responsibilities I never asked for.’ The thoughts never end. They normally start out this way, simple complaints of responsibilities, ‘Don't want to go to work’ ‘don't want to finish school’ ‘don't want to pay these bills’ and so on. How they end is also simple, but they are no longer complaints, just prayers and wishes for death. The different ways float around his mind as he finishes getting ready for work, ‘Maybe I could buy a gun and just get it over with.’ The paperwork is too much of a hassle. ‘Rope. Fan. Hanging.’ Awful way to go out if it doesn't snap his neck when he releases the chair from under him. Another sigh escapes from him as he picks up the weightless black bag that he is still finding a purpose for, “Maybe pills.” He says aloud, grabbing the keys to his 2014 prius.

The drive to work is similar to the feeling of numbness, the feeling that he is already dead but forced to continue working; a lifeless robot in a lifeless world filled with other lifeless people. It’s all the same. It will always be the same and it always has been. Cass wants to feel comfort knowing that there are other people that are going through this and not just himself, but that thought makes him sick to his stomach. It makes the feelings worse. Why is he like this ? It is a constant question that he asks himself.  
As his thoughts begin to take over and drive him into what some people call insanity, he reaches for his radio and turns it on. The climax of some unknown classical piece shouts in his car, bringing him back to reality. Being in reality is a shitty feeling but not as shitty as being stuck in his head. Being stuck in his head is worse than anything; he’d rather be tortured than to think. ‘A good torture method.’ One of the few thoughts he allows to pass through his mind or even pay attention to.

His car comes to a stop as he parks in the parking lot of Moonlight Theater. A common theater to go to a date on, has fancy chairs and everything. Castiel hates his job. He hates seeing people that are “in love” filter in and out every night. He hates seeing new couples come in that have the possibility of love, with their fresh spark and honeymoon phases. He doesn't mind seeing awkward first dates, they’re cute and quiet humorous to him.

Mainly, he wishes that he had someone to love, someone to call his own. That will never happen and he knows it. It isn’t because he isn’t likeable (although some have told him that) but it is because his crippling depression and anxiety pushes everyone away. He gets too nervous if he likes someone and much too nervous if they are dating.  
Castiel has had one serious relationship in his life, with a lovely man named Andy. They were together for five years but toward the end, Cass could see that Andy was tired. The bright eyes and lively man he had fell for had grown dull, exhausted and lifeless. That’s what being with Castiel is like. Andy broke it off. In his exact words, “I can’t keep taking care of you like this anymore. Cass, I’m tired. I’m so tired and you are the one that wears me down. I hope you find peace, then maybe you can find love.” And like that, Andy disappeared, leaving Castiel in a fit of depression.

Castiel blames himself, as he should. He knows its his fault that every relationship, romantic or not, falls apart. He wants it all to stop. He wants it to stop. Stop.  
He starts the popcorn popper, watching the kernels turn into white fluffy balls of wonder, questioning everything that’s ever been and every thing that ever will be. It drives him insane. Castiel watches as the older couples begin to filter in, which is normal at this time of night it being only 5 pm. The younger couples come around later at night, he thinks the older people know this too and come earlier to avoid the tongue sucking, assholes. Castiel would do the same if he had someone to do that with. He adjusts his bow tie before putting on the false customer service smile that he has managed to perfect overtime; it is similar to the false smile he puts on around people with a slight acceptance, just to make the customers feel more welcomed.

As one of the regular couples approaches, Castiel takes a step closer to the counter. “Hello! What can I get for you this evening ?”

The woman of around sixty smiled warmly at him. “Can we get a small kettle corn, along with a small diet coke ?” Castiel smiles back at her.

“Anything for you betty.” He winks charmingly at her as he goes to the kettle corn specific container. He scoops enough to fill the small bag, then quickly walks back to her. “What are you two seeing today ?”

The man smiles at him, although it is as false as Castiel’s is. “Well Castiel, we are going to see that new horror film that came out.”

Castiel manages to hold his smile even through the rude and bitter tone of the man he has known for months. “Ah, trying to make life a bit more exciting, John?” John scowls at him but nods.

“Seemed about time to mix it up

Castiel hands Betty the diet coke with a smile, “Here is that diet coke. Try not to get too spooked.” He offers another smile then adds, “No need to pay for the popcorn and drink.”

She grins at him, “You’re such a sweetheart, Cassie. Thank you.”

They nod in acknowledgment then the couple walks away. There are not many more people in the theater and the only couple is with another concessionist cashier. It gives Cass a time to breathe, a little time to drop his facade. It is only when a singular man approaches him, that he glues the false smile back on. The man smiles back at him, but it is genuine, unlike most. The edges of his bright green eyes crinkle as his pink lips spread across his face in an outstandingly beautiful smile.  
“Hey.” The man speaks, voice low and slightly rough causing tingles to shoot up Castiel’s spine.

Castiel clears his throat before speaking, “Hello.” He looks the man up and down before kicking himself mentally for allowing any form of distraction to actually distract him.

Green eyes scan over Castiel facial expression before smiling wider, “You still with me man ?”

Cass’ eyes widen slightly as he realizes just how zoned out he was and begins to feel the fluster in his stomach grow into a heat that spreads in his cheeks.  
“Y-yes. Sorry about that. Long day.” He tries to write off with a soft chuckle that is strained and nervous. “What can I get for you ?”

“A medium popcorn, coke and some frozen junior mints.” The man states, causing Castiel to break out into a small, genuine smile. “I haven’t had many people order frozen junior mints, although that is the best way to eat them.” Castiel feels the warmth in his cheeks increases as the twinkle in the man’s eyes highlights the charming smile that seems to be shining like the sun. Cass finally manages to walk to the popcorn and fill the bag, almost confused at the lack of numbness as he does the mundane task. When he walks back to the counter, he sets the popcorn down and begins to fill the drink.

“So how long have you been working here? You are pretty skilled in the filling of that popcorn and drink.” Cass smiles more at the man beginning to think that maybe living wouldn’t be that bad if he knows a man like this exists; he is pure beauty and perfection.

“About six months now. Is this your first time attending our theater?” Cass asks.

“No. I normally come during the daytime, miss the rush of teenagers and all that.” Cass nods at the man’s response, completely understanding it.

“So no date?” Dean laughs at the question almost as if he finds it absurd. He then shakes his head in response to the question.

“No. I don’t really date much.” Castiel can’t help but think that it doesn’t make sense that this man isn’t dating. Unless he doesn’t want to.

“Well I hope you enjoy your film.” Cass says sweetly once he notices a couple people behind Dean. “Hopefully I will see you again.”

The man nods with a wink, “See you around Cass.” Castiel feels a blush creep into his cheeks as he lets the fact of an attractive man giving him a nickname sink in. He is confused at first as how the man would know his name but realizes that he is wearing a name-tag.

The people that were behind him step up and order, irritated at how distracted Cass is. He can’t stop thinking about green eyes.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated. Life got busy and I had to find a new beta reader.

After his two hours, Castiel’s manager allows him to take his break. Cass walks out front, pulling out his cigarettes,tapping them before he takes one and places it between his lips. He lights it, taking a strong drag, automatically feeling himself calm down. Something Cass has never understood is why he is always depressed and anxious, he has been through bad things, sure, but it still doesn’t give him the excuse to act the way he does. Cass pulls out his phone, checking his messages; it is pointless considering he doesn’t talk to anyone anymore. On occasion, Castiel will talk to his brother Gabriel but not many other people considering his lack of friends.

It isn’t that people don’t like him or don’t want to be his friend but more so that he feels he doesn’t deserve friends. He learned to stop trying to have friends because, in the end, he always pushes them away and hurts them. Maybe that’s why Andy left him. Not only is Castiel exhausting but he is also suffocating. Andy signed up for it, Cass tries to remind himself but it doesn’t work. He pays attention to the taste of tobacco filling his mouth and the feeling of smoke escaping from his mouth or nose. He is dragged from his thoughts when a familiar voice says, “Hey.”

Castiel looks to the side, taking in a sharp breath when those beautiful green eyes meet his. “How was the movie?” Castiel asks with a bitterness due to being interrupted from his depressional thoughts.

The green eyed man frowns slightly, “Are you okay?”

Castiel takes a long drag on his cigarette debating how to answer the question. It is something simple yet difficult. There is the honest answer, the ugly not so people friendly one. And then there is the nice answer, the answer that makes people smile and be proud of you. Cass shrugs in response. It is the honest answer without saying a single word.  
“Well you can talk to me if you need someone to-” Castiel hates when people try and be kind to him, especially people he does not know.

“I do not talk to people I do not trust, let alone people I do not know.” Castiel chuckles to himself, “I don’t even know your name.” Cass watches the man with curious eyes as he wraps his lips around the cigarette again.

“My name is Dean. Now you know me.” Dean offers a charming smile that only makes Castiel frown more.

“Well nice to meet you Dean. I hope you enjoyed the movie.” Cass flicks his cancer stick to the ground before stepping it out. “Goodbye.” He states as he begins to head back inside, leaving a confused Dean to look after him.

Castiel keeps repeating the name in his head over and over, Dean Dean Dean Dean Dean. It fits so well for the beautiful man. He lets out a soft sigh as he returns to his station, wishing that he could find someone like Dean that would actually like him. Castiel rolls his eyes at himself, because in reality, he did just meet Dean and Dean might actually like him, but Castiel knows better than to believe that. No one as attractive and sweet would ever find Castiel appealing; maybe it is just in his head, but Castiel has found that to be the truth and has accepted it to be so.

After a long, dragged out shift, Castiel is able to go home, the drive back is just as numb and uneventful as the one to work, but this time there are no thoughts. He is too exhausted to think about anything and allows the comfort of the numbness to wash over him. As he crawls into bed, he finally allows a thought to pass. One thought. ‘I do not deserve anything good in this world.’

His blue eyes flutter shut as he begins to grow closer to sleep. He debates for a moment whether or not he should attend his classes tomorrow but knows that attending is the one thing that will keep himself from attempting suicide. So he will go. He will drag out another day of painful existence just to see if it gets any better. This is how he has stayed alive throughout the past five or six years, and it is painful. It is miserable.  
Maybe he will kill himself tomorrow instead of going to classes. It will be much easier and will put him out of his stressful misery. He will not have to worry about debt, work, homework, low self esteem, anxiety, depression, pain, love, or much else. When he is dead he will not have to deal with anything, and the thought of that is comfort enough to put him to sleep.

The next morning arrives quicker than Castiel likes, giving him a headache he does not want to deal with.

Coffee.

Coffee is the only thing on his mind as he stumbles out of his shitty, twin sized bed to get ready for the day. Coffee is the only thing on his mind when he strips and steps into the cold, yet quickly warming water of his shower. The coffee will help. He lazily finishes his shower before getting dressed. He checks the time as he grabs his bag for school and upon seeing that he has thirty more minutes before class, he smiles. Not rushing for coffee is an amazing feeling to Castiel.

For the first time in a long time, Castiel is walking out his apartment thinking of something that is not how badly he wants to die. It is refreshing, surprisingly. When the cool morning air hits him, he takes in a deep breath, appreciating how the air feels when it fills his lungs. It reminds him that he is alive, and for once, that is not a bad thing. He soon realizes that there is a beauty in life, unlike he has previously thought.

This beauty has green eyes, pink lips, and freckles Castiel would love to count. A long sigh escapes him as he does a quick reality check, reminding himself that no one as attractive and seemingly kind as Dean would ever want to be with him. It is not possible. The feeling of life being numb and unworthy returns quickly, causing his exhaustion to hit him harder.

He gets into the car, starts it, and quickly turns off the radio- not wanting to deal with the contrast of emotions. He inhales deeply, and begins the short drive to the coffee shop down the street. “The small things, Castiel, the small things.” He reminds himself why he should attempt to stay alive. As he pulls into the parking lot, he glues on a false smile, trying to improve it into something that could become real. He often wonders why he is like this, he has reason to be but he still wonders why. So what, bad things happen, that was years ago. Why isn’t he over it yet? Why can’t he just grow up and get over these things?

The smell of bitter beans, freshly ground, invades his sense of smell, causing him to relax slightly. He looks around the shop, anxious to see anyone he knows. It is a fear of Castiel’s, seeing people he may know in public. It is as if they get a glimpse of who he is and what he does, which makes him very uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to let anyone in. He does not want a single person to know him.

Castiel has had the bad habit of playing victim, going boo hoo that no one likes him, but he realizes that most of it is his own fault. He always pushes people away, never allows them to be kind, to be his friend. And he is miserable. He needs to change. After he’s satisfied that he doesn’t know anyone, he steps to the counter, looking at the menu. A familiar voice causes Cass to look away, and behind the counter. As green eyes meet his, he feels the panic bubble.

Dean.

“What can I get for you?” Dean asks with a knowing smile. Castiel bites his lower lip and looks back to the menu before glancing at Dean shyly.

“Can I get a twenty four ounce Americano with room for cream.” Cass mutters while he begins to pull his wallet out.

“Of course. Want that under Cass or Castiel ?” Dean asks. The way Dean said Castiel’s full name, sends shivers up Cass’ spine.

“Y-yeah yes.” Cass responds causing Dean to laugh.

“I’ll just put it under Cass then. That’ll be three forty five.” Castiel nods and hands dean his debit card, waiting silently for him to give it back. When Dean hands the card back, their fingers brush causing Cass to blush softly. He pockets his card quick with a nod, “Alright. Thanks yeah. Okay.” He quickly evacuates to the pick up counter, blush still evident. He hates how Dean makes his normal thoughts stop. He hates that Dean makes him feel, makes him curious. Dean makes him want and he hasn’t truly wanted anything in a long time, besides death. Cass doesn’t count that as a want considering it is more of a wish, but that is not important to him right now. What is important, is that beautiful man, with those skilled fingers making what will most likely be a phenomenal cup of coffee.

A few minutes later, the sweet voice is calling out his name. It is something That Castiel wouldn’t mind getting used to. He flushes a deep red as he approaches the counter, severely embarrassed by his own thoughts, although they were not voiced aloud. “T-thank you.” he mutters, clearly nervous. He despises that, on occasion, his emotions will show through his facade; it makes him uncomfortable and anxious and that is when bad things begin to happen. When Castiel loses control, bad things happen and when bad things happen, he does things he is never proud of. Another reminder that he has to add a journal entry for the day. Later, he thinks would be a better time. In the meantime, he will focus on this beautiful man and on his classes, then work.

“You’re welcome. So how was the rest of your shift last night?” Dean asks him with genuine curiosity, confusing Castiel.

“It was fine.”

“Are you feeling any better?”

Castiel sighs at the question and sips the coffee, attempting to hold back the soft moan but unable to do so, causing Dean to blush softly. Castiel then nods, “I am much better now, thanks for asking.” He is not thankful. Castiel wishes Dean didn’t ask any form of questions, he hates having to lie; it only exhausts Castiel further. The only reason Castiel is still standing here and talking to Dean is because the coffee is too good to be true, or so he tells himself. It has nothing to do with how beautiful Dean’s eyes contrast against the light pink blush or how soft and kissable his lips appear to me. None of those things are on Castiel’s mind. Not a single one.

Dean laughs out of embarrassment when he notices that Cass has zoned out and is simply staring at him, “You still with me, buddy ?” Dean asks. Castiel blinks a few times before turning bright red and nodding.

“Yep. About time for me to leave though.” Castiel rants out before quickly turning around and practically running out the door. Dean stares after him, wondering why Cass is the way he is.

Castiel walks toward where the community college is located, sighing to himself. Thoughts begin to suffocate him, steal his breath and bring the familiar numbness back, it is better than crying after all. He refuses to allow himself to think anything positive about Dean, only repeating in his mind how much he hates the caring man. He licks his lips and sips the coffee, only being reminded once more of something amazing Dean has created.

Cass inhales deeply, jaw clenched, as he throws the cup of coffee as hard as he can into the street. He doesn’t deserve something as good as that. He doesn’t deserve anything Dean has to offer. Castiel, simply, does not deserve one thing in this world. Nothing good and nothing bad. He doesn’t even deserve the thing he craves for most, death. He takes another moment to close his eyes and take a deep breath, remembering what his therapist recommended for when he gets this way. After a few seconds of no change, he decides that his therapist is full of shit.

Everything begins to turn dull once again, after the weird flood of emotions wore off into his common emptiness, the world began turning into shades of grey. Castiel stops noticing things, stops caring and all together is fed up, feeling sick and more than ever wants to jump off a cliff. Maybe not the last part, takes too much effort to climb up one. He sighs, regretting that he turned away the opportunity to get a car; it would have been an amazing investment.

Walking into his classroom exhausts him and Castiel knows that this is a sign he is getting bad again. He has always been tired, always is tired but when opening a singular door seems to drain all energy he has and makes him want to lay down for a few days, he knows that it is time. It is time to give up, again.

As he slowly takes his seat, he begins daydreaming about a different world, a better world. It is just a dream, he reminds himself. Castiel hates not knowing what is in the afterlife. It might be nothing. Cass could kill himself and never experience anything again, which doesn’t sound too bad for him, but he begins to wonder about heaven and hell. He’d be sent to hell if they were real, be endlessly tortured and wishing to die. Too similar to real life for his own comfort so he begins to picture a world where he is alone. A world where he doesn't have to deal with people, with emotions and he can finally get what he wants. Pure silence and numbness. A place where no thoughts, no emotions and no memories exist.

He sighs softly as he pictures this paradise. When he snaps out of it, he realizes that the lesson has begun, and once again he can’t find it in him to care. Maybe dropping out is the way to go. It would prevent the family from wasting money when Castiel will end up shooting himself or taking a cocktail of pills with an actual cocktail. Would his family care? Would anyone care if he was gone? Castiel decides that, no, nobody will give a shit if he dies. Why would they? He is an annoying worthless body with no purpose. He knows this. Everyone knows this.

Does Dean realize this? Cass shakes his head slightly, almost in shock that one person might actually not know. Cass makes it a mission to get Dean to realize that he is unimportant. Once Dean realizes that fact about Castiel, he will leave Cass alone, just like Cass wants. Or does he want that? Sipping coffee and eating breakfast everyday with the beautiful man is also a good thought, impossible but good. Castiel hates himself for letting the thought overcome him, now he can’t help that think that Dean may be good. He may be good for Cass, which is terrifying to him. Castiel doesn’t remember the last time he felt worth positive care from someone else. He takes in a sharp breath, hating how he has began to picture a domestic life with a man he barely knows.

It is all ruined when Cass realizes that Dean deserves so much better. Dean is kind, sweet and Castiel knows that he will ruin this if he gets with Dean. He ruins everything around him. That’s why he is alone. All alone. It only makes Castiel feel worse that he makes the conscious decision to ruin everything. It hurts but it somehow is easier than trying to keep things stable when he can’t even keep himself stable.

Castiel stands up, walks out of the classroom without a sound and runs home. He runs as fast as he can, needing the mixed thoughts to leave him. He doesn’t want to feel and all this confusion is ruining the easiness of numbing out. He cannot numb out when he gets confused or overwhelmed.

He knows exactly what he needs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for my absence, life has gotten crazy but here is the new chapter!

The feeling is overwhelming, suffocating him to the point of nausea, an all too familiar feeling for Castiel. Opening the door to his apartment is more of a struggle than usual due to his shaking hands; he swears he is having a seizure but knows better than that. Anxiety. One of his three best friends, the other two being depression and ptsd.   
He shoves the thought away as the click of the door unlocking sounds. Cass steps in his apartment with a soft breath, shuddering as the cold air of the building surrounds him. Two long strides is all it takes for Castiel to get where he so desperately needs to be; his bedside right in front of the oak wood nightstand. He attempts to steady his hands as he opens the nightstand revealing the truth of what he has become, a dependant failure. Well he’s not failing in everyday life, but being mentally stable, that hope will never even come close to being a reality.   
He picks up the glass piece filled with color and swirls of green and blue, it blending beautifully together the more he observes it. He sets the bubbler aside before picking up the grinder and opening the bottom level, checking for any kush that has been caught from when he has ground his marijuana. Castiel smiles to himself with a small amount of gratitude as he pours out the green, finely ground drug into his palm then begins filling his bubbler, making sure the bowl is properly packed before finally, finally taking that first hit.   
Castiel holds in the harsh smoke until he coughs it out, eyes watering at how rough it is on his throat and chest. After a three minute cough fit, Cass takes another hit; the process repeating itself. It is after the third hit when Castiel feels the light and warm feeling of being high setting in. A soft laugh slips from his lips as he wobbles slightly, the feeling of the inside of his body tingling. It is hot, he decides but when he heads outside once more, changes his mind deciding that, no, it is in fact very very cold.   
Castiel groans to himself as he shuts the apartment door behind him then begins to walk to the coffee shop, wondering if Dean is still there. He prays that Dean is not there due to the fear of what stupid shit he would say while like this. Super stoned. Cass laughs to himself as he thinks of how soft Dean’s hair would be, which quickly leads to the thought of sheep!dean.   
As he walks by the buildings, left foot then right foot, he realizes he is slightly dancing to the tune of some nameless classical song stuck in his mind, spinning around like the leaves of lettuce in the salad spinner, seemingly endless. Castiel begins humming quietly to himself as he does so. By the time he reaches the coffee shop, he is in a fit of silent laughter but sobers up just enough to act half normal when he sees dean wiping down some of the tables. Castiel slowly walks inside, wishing he could be more open about his feelings, a thought he decides to push down later. Feelings are too much to push down and Cass decides that actually feeling something is pretty damn nice. He lets it wash over him, the feeling of wanting to be wanted and needed by Dean, whether it will actually happen or not is the true debate. There is too much doubt, that Castiel can finally feel fully.   
Dean spots Cass and grins, running behind the counter then shoving his coworker out of the way, “Hey Cass!” Dean exclaims, excited smile spreading across his face causing Castiel to smile back, feeling light and happy.   
“Hello, Dean.” Castiel manages to get out, although his tongue is dry and heavy, cottonmouth. “I would like the magic chocolate river drink please. As soon as possible. I think I am dying.” Cass laughs out, bending over the counter while holding his sides. Dean tilts his head in response to Castiel, small smile growing bigger before laughing himself.   
“Coming right up sunshine.” Dean responds before beginning to work on it, waving Cass to go sit down; Castiel scatters over to one of the booths nearby, watching Dean’s every movement and it does not occur to him yet what Dean had just done.   
Once Dean finishes making the cup of coffee, he walks over to cass and hands him the drink before sitting across from the far gone Castiel. Cass swivels the drink between his hands with a large grin, then looks at Dean, blushing darkly when he see those green eyes gazing at him fondly. It is really overwhelming, more than Castiel remembers it being. Those eyes, captivating Castiel make him go dumb.   
Why isn’t he talking? Why can’t he be normal? Is the wall flashing? Castiel decides he will never know the answers to his questions. That is until Dean speaks, “So uh how has your day been Cass?”   
Castiel smiles awkwardly at Dean, still blushing, “It has been great, truly wonderful.” He states sarcastically, not wanting to bring up all of his issues.   
Dean nods slowly as he eyes Castiel with suspicion, “I really hope it has been. You deserve it.” Green eyes soften as they look the disheveled, attractive, blue eyed man up and down. Castiel offers a tight, uncomfortable smile before sipping Dean’s god like coffee creation; humming softly in delight.   
“Wow, this gets me every time. It truly is an amazing cup of coffee.” Castiel slowly lifts the drink back to his mouth, lips wrapping around the edge of the cup as he sips, enjoying the comfort from the warmth of the liquid and the beauty that shines from Dean making it all the more exquisit.   
Dean smiles wide at Vass then with a wink says, “Yeah I can always make you only the best cup of coffee.” Cass blushes deeply as Dean’s statement triggers vivid daydreams.   
***  
It is around eight am when the sun finally pours through Castiel’s window, managing to shine perfectly across the man’s closed eyes. Cass whines softly in his sleep as he rolls onto his side, subconsciously avoiding the bright disturbance. As he dreams peacefully, a familiar scent fills the room. Coffee. The rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans mixing with just the right amount of chocolate and peppermint floats in the room, getting as far as to go into Castiel’s dream.   
Castiel stirs slightly, the purple silk sheets falling to the side as he does so. After a few moments, Castiel begins slowly opening his eyes, groaning in annoyance at being conscious. The moment he realizes what the scent he is smelling is, he jumps out of bed quickly heading to the kitchen in a sleepy daze. What Castiel finds is his idea of perfect; Dean gracefully making the cups of coffee while he sings his favorite song. As Cass observes Dean he notices features he never fully appreciated before such as his bowed legs or all the freckles that scatter his skin.   
Dean turns around to face Cass, smile wide and eyes bright. He then walks to Cass, pulling him close gently by the waist. As he leans in close all Castiel can focus on is those pink, full lips that are too tempting. “You still with me?” Dean asks gently. Castiel looks up to Dean and suddenly he is back.   
The sudden sounds of the coffee shop overwhelm Castiel as he feels a pang of disappointment, his dream being much different from this shit reality. He shakes his head slightly to clear his mind from such a sickeningly sweet fantasy. He needs to remember that the plan is to get Dean to hate him, not got him to want any doomed relationship. With a sigh, Castiel plasters on a smile then finally make eye contact with Dean, easily getting lost in the never ending green. “Well it is a shame I onlt get to expirence it here.”   
Dean smirks at his response, “If you wanted, you could come to my place Saturday and I can whip you up something special.” Castiel’s heart begins pounding quickly as he realizes a version of his daydream may be possible. Anxiety begins pumping through him as the reality of what Dean said begins to set in.   
Castiel reluctantly shakes his head once more, “Thank you for the offer but I do no have a way around town.” He attempts to deflect as he is now aware that if he spends more time with Dean, he will fall deeply in love with him. At this point, Castiel knows his plan is failing but he is not sure how to fix it.   
“Oh! Thats fine, I can meet you at your place instead.” Dean offers as a simple solution. Castiel automatically begins to panic at the thought of Dean in his apartment. He would know everything; he would manage to find out all the disgusting, terrible secrets that Cass attempts to keep hidden from the world. Although Castiel is sure this would be the quickest way to get Dean to hate him, he does not want him knowing all those years of pent up darkness that he keeps around.   
Cass looks up at Dean after a few moments of debating but sighs, “No Dean. You do not need to go out of your way to come over.” He finally responds.   
“What if I was already in the area?” Dean retorts hoping Cass will drop the playing hard to get act.   
Gazing at Dean intensely, Castiel states bluntly “I am not interested.” Castiel has always been able to lie easily which causes him to be alarned that this lie is not coming out smoothly. He prays his neutral facial expressions will make it believable. Notmally his lies com out without a drop of remorse but this is different, maybe it is because he is high or maybe he actually cares about Dean and wants a deeper, stronger connection. What is throwing him off the most is that he doesnt believe the lie unlike with other lies where he can easily manipulate himself to believe whatever his mind comes up with.   
Dean is different, he actually clikes him and enjoys the man’s company but Cass does not want to get close to Dean only yo feel the hearybreak of when he leaves; they always do, so why would he be any different?   
Dean frowns, watching Castiel with concern, “Well sorry, you’ve been giving off the impression that you might be.” He stands up quickly, fixing his apron.  
Castiel stares up at him, face blank and eyes nervous. With a shake in his voice, he states “I would never be interested in someone like you.” He takes in a deep breath to calm himself, hating every rotten word falling from his lips.   
“You don’t have to be such a dick all the time either.” Dean suddenly adds, clearly upset with how Castiel is reacting. At those harsh yet truthful words, Cass begins to sprial.   
“W-wait! Dean, I did not mean to-”   
“Yes, yes you did mean to. You acted the same way at the theater as well. I’ll stop of you really want me to but man..” Dean laughs a little, “You gotta make up your mind.” He sighs slipping Cass a small piece of paper before walking away to return to work. Cass picks up the paper, glancing at it; when he sees that it is Dean’s number, he looks up. Watching Dean scurry away behind the counter, blue eyes begin to tear up while waiting for a sign that Dean might still be interested. Dean doesn’t look back.   
After a couple minutes, Cass gets up then leaves the shop while blocking out the world around him. He cannot breathe. Everything blurs around him as he takes a few steps away from the shop, heading home. He is aware of every emotion that is finally spilling out over the edge; irritating him to the point he fears losing his mind. Closing his eyes, he breathes deeply counting down from three. By the time Cass hits zero, everything is as numb as before. What Cass is unaware of is those special green eyes worriedly observing him.


End file.
